


Eccentric Heroes

by Tallihensia



Category: Smallville
Genre: AU future fic, College, Fluff, M/M, Reuniting, Romance, Warm Fuzzies, minor bookstore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/pseuds/Tallihensia
Summary: After Lex leaves Smallville, life goes on for Clark.  When he’s in college, though… that’s when things start to get interesting.  Girlfriends aren’t for him… and steady jobs aren’t either, but maybe a returning Lex Luthor is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noxelementalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxelementalist/gifts).



> Gift for Noxelementalist
> 
> First line taken directly from Season 1 episode, Stray. Story is future fic AU after that.
> 
> Includes references to canonical Clark past relationships, Smallville and DCU. Don't worry, not too serious. One kiss mentioned, no more. (FYI - Lori Lemaris is a comic canon character, not an original OC ^^)
> 
> The Flash timelines are confused. This story is mixing them to our advantage.
> 
> (prompts posted at the end)

## Eccentric Heroes

_**Then** _

"For what it's worth," Clark said quietly, "I hope you stay."

Lex's gaze didn't waver, but it became more intense, more tangible. A power in and of itself, wrapping around Clark like a sweater, holding him warm and close.

"For what it's worth...," Lex mused. He stepped forward towards Clark, a casual and deliberate disregard of the personal space between them, and he tilted his head up to keep watching Clark. 

Lifting up a hand to Clark's cheek, Lex rested his fingertips lightly against Clark's skin. They stood there like that for a few moments. Clark was too afraid to move, to breathe, to break this moment. 

Then Lex gave a gentle smile and most of the intensity dropped away. He stepped back, his hand still in the air paralleling the cheek it used to be touching as he did so until he was a good couple of feet from Clark, before he let his hand fall back to his side. 

"For what it's worth, Clark...," Lex said again, pausing again at the same place. Then he shook his head and looked away. "I'm trying to be good here. You make it hard."

"I... What? How?" Clark sputtered, not expecting that. Usually Lex told him he was his moral center, or stuff like that, not that he was a problem to that goodness.

Lex walked to the loft's stairs and paused. He turned to look at Clark again, as if he was memorizing him. "See you around, Clark." And then he was gone.

Even though Lex had just said a minute ago that he hadn't made up his mind, Clark couldn't help but feel that a decision had been made, and it hadn't been in his favor. 

"Goodbye, Lex," Clark whispered, staring at the empty spot where Lex used to be and feeling a corresponding hole take place in his heart and soul.

...

_**Now** _

"I... Regular hours?" Clark looked at the newspaper editor in dismay. "But this is a college newspaper."

The editor's back stiffened. "We are an _award-winning_ college newspaper that does some of the best research in the nation, and we are professionals. This is not a small-town high school flyer. We work hard here, and many of our students go on to get jobs in national news." She paused to take a breath, "Yes, regular hours. We work around a student's schedule, of course – college work comes first, but the newspaper has to come second. This isn't a blog where you write an article and post it online when you feel like it." 

After another moment, she softened. "It's not so bad. We do understand that for freshmen, it's the first year. But we're getting you ready for the world outside, and that means regular hours."

"Oh." Clark thought about it a moment, then figured he could do it. So Chloe let him come in and out when he wanted to. Farm work, on the other hand, had been all about schedules and commitments and one didn't let those slide. He could do this.

...

"You got fired? From the school newspaper?" Pete paused in the middle of raising his coffee to look at Clark incredulously.

"Let go." Clark sighed and morosely stirred his coffee with the wooden stick. "I kept missing the time, or leaving early, or..." He took a sip of the coffee, grimaced, and put another pack of sugar in it. "They said I could keep submitting articles and that I wrote really well, but..."

"Clark-o..." Pete glanced around the café and then lowered his voice. "You've seriously got to start leaving things to the police. That's what they're there for! Look at you. I don't think you've even _slept_ four nights in seven."

"I know. I know." Clark rubbed his eyes. "Don’t remind me. But Pete," his voice dropped down as well, "they're calling out for help. There are so _many_ of them. I hear them... I can't ignore it. I just can't."

"You're wasting away, man. How are you going to save anybody like that?" Pete shrugged, then changed topics slightly. "I can't believe you got a college girlfriend, with everything else. So, how'd the movie with Lori go?"

Clark winced. "I had to leave in the middle of it."

"Clark!" Pete yelled and everybody turned to look.

They both drank their coffee, embarrassed, until the attention drifted elsewhere. 

Then Pete resumed. "She's crippled, for pity's sake, and you left her there?!"

"Handicapped," Clark murmured. "And Lori's perfectly fine on her own – we met at the theater, it's not like I carried her over! She makes that wheelchair seem easy."

"Yeah, other than the first time you met when the bullies had tipped her out of it and you'd swept in to rescue her. Did you think about that happening again, maybe?"

Clark sighed. "It was a mugging, Pete. They were beating him up. It was bad. The police wouldn't have gotten there in time. I still had to take him to the emergency room as it was."

Pete shook his head. "Okay, but I'll be surprised if she doesn't dump you."

"Yeah, I know." Clark glumly stared into his coffee.

"Hi Clark, hi Pete."

The cheerful greeting had both of them snapping their heads up and over and then a quick mental review to see what Lori might have heard or not. 

She wheeled up to their table, one hand holding her latte, the other deftly maneuvering the chair manually. It didn't look like she'd overheard anything, though she was giving both of them a wry gaze from the guilty appearance of theirs. 

"It's okay, Clark, I don't mind about the movie. Pete, stop giving him a hard time." She laughed, "I know you both by now. Seriously, it's okay." Putting her latte on the table, she adjusted the thick blanket over her legs, tucking it in a little more securely. It was always secure, but she made the gesture whenever she stopped. "It's not like I'm all that easy to schedule around either, what with my early night habits."

"I am sorry, Lori," Clark apologized. "I---"

Lori held up a hand. "It's okay, Clark. Actually, I came over because I've been thinking about the problem."

Pete and Clark looked at each other and then back to her. "Problem?" Clark asked cautiously. 

Lori flashed a wicked grin. "Not the one you're thinking of – no, the problem that you haven't seen a full movie in Metropolis yet."

Clark and Pete relaxed, though they were still a bit edgy from her first remark. 

"I've gotten him to see a few," Pete defended his friend.

"On dvd. With interruptions." Lori shook her head. "Not good enough. With movies, you've got to go straight on through – they're designed for it. But you know what isn't?"

"Er, what?" Clark wasn't sure where the conversation was, or was going, but he asked anyhow.

"Books!" Lori proclaimed triumphantly, producing a small stack from somewhere and plopping them on the table. 

"Okkkay, and I'm outta here." Pete recoiled from the paperbacks as if they were a certain green stone and he an alien. Pete picked up his trash as he stood. "Good to see you, Lori – have fun you two." He retreated quickly.

Clark closed his mouth before anything could escape. "Um, I don't quite see..."

Lori propped her elbows on the table and smiled at him. "What is the point of going to a movie?"

"Um,... date?" Clark tried, even though he knew it wasn't the right answer.

Still smiling, Lori shook her head. "To escape this world for awhile. To go and enjoy – or at least be distracted – from our own here and nows, and everything that goes with that. To put ourselves someplace else entirely, if only for a little while. To enjoy the artistry and story-telling."

"We do?"

Ignoring that, Lori went on. "Books do the same thing, on a different scale. Movies are good for most people because it's seen and crafted right there and accessible to most. Books... are different. They're words, and what is happening inside a book has to be felt inside the reader – but a book can draw you in like a movie rarely achieves because books can tell more, can show more, can experience more. They're two forms of art, both to be appreciated in their own way."

Clark stared at her, knowing his eyes were wide and terrified, reflecting his inner self.

"More to the point," Lori said with a wry grin, "books can be read at any time, put down if needed, and then picked up again later. I think they'd fit in your schedule better than movies. I know they do for mine."

"That's..." Clark reached over and picked up the top book. "Most of my reading has always been for school. Or research. I never thought about them like that."

"The ones assigned for school are usually the weighty ones, with quizzes at the end. They're not the ones you pick for yourself, the worlds you want to explore." Lori waved her hand at the pile. "I brought a selection of some of the ones I like – you might like some, you might not like others. Every author has a different style, and there's a lot of variety in stories. Give it a try."

"I will," Clark promised. He hadn't ever really thought about it before.

"You have the cares of the world on you, sometimes," Lori said, her brown eyes large and serious, "and my presence isn't always enough. But maybe... maybe, you can find a little relief here too." 

Leaning in, she kissed him, and he returned it.

... 

Clark sat at the café table, his head in his hands.

Pete pushed a coffee over to him. "It's okay, man. Girlfriends, they come and go." He sipped at his own coffee, totally unconcerned.

"My girlfriend was a _mermaid_!" Clark hissed, raising his head just far enough to glare. "And she was mind-reading me the whole time we were going out!"

"Eh," Pete picked up his bagel and took a bite. "Big deal. It's not like you have the greatest track-record with normal girls... have you _ever_ dated a girl who didn't end up having freaky meteor powers? Or other weird things? At least Lori stayed friends when she went back to the ocean and promised not to tell all your deep, dark secrets."

"Yeah, I could trust her with my secrets… But apparently she couldn't trust me with hers." Clark dropped his head back down. "I hate my life. I'm swearing off girlfriends forever."

"So," Pete poked at him, "What's this about a new job? One you haven't been fired from yet? Hate that too?"

Involuntarily, Clark laughed.

"That's better."

Straightening up, Clark reached for his coffee and stirred sugar into it. "It's a bookstore - _Ye Olde Eccentric Heroes_. They are... well, they're kind of odd. I apparently fit right in."

"But don't they have work hours too?"

"They let me come in and work when I want to – I just log my hours while I'm there."

Pete raised his eyebrows. "How'd you get such a sweet deal like that?"

"Um, well... I used to go there a lot with Lori, and..." Clark sighed. "It's a long story."

"So give, already."

Clark gave another sigh and summarized. "They think I'm mentally fragile and can't stand to be around people for long. That when I take off, it's because I've had my 'people limit' and need to go before my fragile self breaks under the stress."

Pete burst into laughter.

...

Clark was shelving the new inventory of fantasy books when the chimes at the door tinkled. Mr. Yarkin was manning the front, as he usually did, so Clark didn't bother to come out. 

"Hello Iciaths," a warm, rich voice greeted the store cat, who must have been curled up in the front window. 

Clark paused before slotting the next book in place. That voice...

"Angel," Mr. Yarkin greeted the stranger. "Been awhile."

"That it's definitely been," the stranger replied. 

And though he'd been given a name... it didn't fit the voice. Clark put the books down, frowning. He knew that voice.

"Any chance you'd happen to have six years of back-orders on _Warrior Angel_ comics?" The stranger laughed lightly.

No stranger. No stranger at all.

Clark burst out of the aisles, weaving his way through them with ease. "Lex!" 

He nearly flung himself on his former friend before he thought about those six years and pulled back, hesitating with the length of the check out stand between them.

As Clark had been racing forward, Lex's head had snapped around and he took a step towards where Clark had stopped. Lex's lovely blue-flecked grey eyes were wide with surprise. "Clark?" he breathed in tones of wonder. "Clark..." he said more definitively, though still with a pause.

Then Lex closed the distance between them, and his arms were wrapped around Clark, and Clark's arms around him, and they were both laughing and the world was right. There was something in Clark that he'd never known how much it was crying out, how much had been missing, until just that moment.

They separated but only by a foot, hands still holding shoulders, eyes focused on eyes, connection maintained. The laughter trailed off to a still delighted silence that held for a few more moments while they regarded each other.

Clark was first to break the silence. "Where have you **been** , Lex?"

Lex quirked a grin in that familiar, beloved way. Sarcasm and humor both, along with a dose of self-decrepitation. He let go of Clark and took another step back. "Well, you heard about the fight with my dad?" 

"Lex, the **world** heard about the fight with your dad." Clark snorted, even as the warmth left the front of his body and his hands. He didn't step closer, though he wanted to. "You blew up the LuthorCorp labs, Lex. The _laboratories_ , plural."

Unexpectedly, Lex blushed. He coughed, raising and hand to cover the sound, then continuing the movement up and over his head in a nervous gesture. "That wasn't... um, I didn't actually mean... things got a little..."

Clark laughed, shaking his head. "Just another day in the world of Lex?"

The grin returned, a little softer, more directed at Clark specifically. A hint of gratefulness that Clark was both still laughing and not pressing. "Well, yes. I rather made tracks out of town after that."

"Yes, and where did you go?" Clark asked, impatient. "Nobody has heard from you for years."

Lex shrugged. "Here and there. I spent a few years in Tibet." 

Clark blinked. "Learning with the monks? Should we call you Doctor, now?"

"Very funny," Lex replied, leaning on the counter. "But I did also collect a few doctorates in Japan – went back to school since I wasn't under Dad's direction anymore." He swept his eyes up and down Clark, evaluating him all over, the weight of the gaze both tangible and telling. "How about you? You're in college now? Junior year? What are you majoring in?"

Clark swayed slightly under the mental touch, feeling it and all the memories it awakened, as well as a burning within. He tucked his chin towards his chest, self-conscious and utterly aware of his scruffy look. Nervously, he adjusted his glasses, something new since Lex had left. Lex hadn't mentioned the glasses. "Yeah. I, uh, well, I started in English – Journalism."

"Chloe," Lex murmured, pursing his lips. "I remember..."

"Yeah," Clark blushed. "But I changed majors. This year. Now I'm doing a double major in Astronomy and History."

Genuine delight suffused Lex's features. "I remember your telescope in the loft."

Clark remembered those nights in the loft as well, with Lex and he talking about the stars, the constellations, the physics, the history... Oh hell. Clark blushed. He suddenly realized just why he'd picked those majors, out of all the ones he'd considered. He'd even thought about physics as well. But astronomy and history... Lex's voice, as he waxed upon the topics, enthusiastic in his sharing and with a receptive audience. 

"So that's the astronomy. But why history?" Lex was saying as Clark blinked back into focus.

He wasn't about to explain his sudden realization. No. Absolutely not. Clark glanced to the side. Then he heard a cry and sharpened his gaze until it went through the building and through the building next to them and the one beyond it... there. Some miles away, but it was going to be bad. A fire in an apartment building. People at home.

"I've gotta go," Clark mumbled, sliding sideways, then ducking out between the passages, shifting to super-speed as he got out of range of their sight. 

He left his hearing trained to the bookstore, even as he sped towards the fire.

"Clark---" Lex's voice, breaking off.

Mr. Yarkin spoke for the first time since Clark and Lex had reunited. "It's his way, Angel. He gets nervous around folks, then poof, he's gone. Great while he's here, but one can't tell for how long it'll be. Don't take it personally, and don't hold it 'gainst him. It's just his way."

"It didn't used---"

Clark didn't hear the rest of Lex's reply, now at the building and needing all his senses to help him rescue people. His clothes burnt up in the fire, as they always did. He really needed something more sturdy – he wondered how the other super heroes he'd heard of got theirs, but he'd never had the chance to ask. He wasn't a hero. Just someone who did what he could.

...

When he went to bed that night, Clark thought his dreams would be of the fire. And fire was in his dreams, but not the way he'd expected.

Fire, hot like it hadn't been, burning, making him sweat and gasp. Him naked, flesh against another's smooth skin, rubbing the flames against each other, the sweat making them glide. His hands on pale skin not covered by shirt or jacket, his lips reaching to touch the pulse at the base of a throat. Another's hands along his back, sliding down, down... holding. A voice, crying his name. A familiar, beloved voice, laughing with wondering delight, murmuring his name. Him returning it, shaping a single syllable even as his back arched...

He woke five feet above the bed, gravity reclaiming him, pulling him quickly back without time to think. Clark stopped the fall barely in time not to break the bed, an inch above the sheets. He let gravity pull him down to the sticky, wet sheets, himself matching them with sweat and ... he hadn't done something like this since he was a teenager. 

Flushing with embarrassment, Clark thanked his job that he was able to afford a studio off-campus by himself. It was a necessity with his hobby, but also served to spare him the shame of this morning. He rested his hand against his forehead for a long few moments, trying to slow his breathing. 

Not since he was a teenager! He had better control over himself, he did, really. Clark finally got up and went into the shower to clean himself. Which, unfortunately, had him recalling certain parts of his dream, with his hands sliding over himself, hands clenching in his hair...

Clark banged his head against the tiles and tried to finish his shower. He didn't even react like this to his girlfriends that he kissed! Why was he so flustered over Lex?

The water of the shower poured over him as Clark froze, not moving, not breathing. He'd put a name to his fantasy and it made it all the more real, like none of his girlfriends ever had. Not since he'd been a teenager.... "Oh my God."

...

"Pete! Pete!" Clark finally found his friend walking on the path towards the Social Sciences building. "Pete!"

Pete blinked at him and quickly moved back to a shadowed area between a few bushes and a wall, where nobody could see them or hear them. "What is it? What happened?"

"Pete. I'm..." Clark opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"What???" Pete put his hands on Clark's shoulders. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"Pete," Clark whispered, "I'm gay."

"Yeah, and what happened?" Pete replied impatiently. "What, did somebody... nobody could beat you up. Did somebody say something? Did... what happened, man?!"

Clark blinked. "Um. Nothing... Um, Pete, I'm gay. I like guys, not girls. I..." Clark reeled, sitting down abruptly, his whole world shifting around him.

"I know that!" Pete said impatiently. "Now what the hell happened so I can go kick some ass."

Tilting his head back, Clark looked up at him. "You knew that?"

"Of course. Geez. I'm not blind." Pete paused, looking down. "Hell, Clark... are you saying... _You_ didn't know?" He rolled his eyes, then reached out a hand.

Clark automatically took it, letting Pete pull him to his feet. "No, I... I've had _girlfriends_ all this time! How'd you'd think I was gay?"

Pete shrugged, looking at him with exasperation. "They were your beards, man. It was frickin' obvious."

"My... But...." Clark closed his eyes and pressed his palms to his lids. He shook his head and then looked at Pete again. "But Lana! Chloe... Lori..."

"And a half-dozen more between them," Pete replied impatiently. "Hell, Clark. You went out with Lori for nearly two years and never figured out that underneath that thick blanket of hers was a giant fish tail! Even taking things slow, respecting the bases, basic _cuddling_ would've scoped that out! **Two years,** Clark!"

Clark flushed a beet, solid red, feeling the burn across his face and down his chest and arms.

"Oh Lord," Pete shook his head. "Why do you think Chloe was so mad at you and finally left?"

"I thought... the alien thing," Clark whispered.

Pete rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky. "She was cool with the alien thing. Gad, she _loved_ the alien thing. _I_ freaked out more about the alien thing than Chloe did. She was pissed because you were using her to cover up your gayness with the world but didn't trust her enough not to tell her or ask if you could."

Pete paused. "Oh hey..." He whipped out his cell phone, thumbing it on and rapidly texting.

"Are you texting Chloe?" Clark resignedly asked, feeling impending doom crashing upon him.

"Hell yeah. If you didn't---" Pete broke off as the phone rang. "Hey—"

"NOT FUNNY!" Chloe's voice could clearly be heard by alien ears. "I swear, Pete---"

"Not a joke, Chloe!" Pete hurried to say. "No, seriously. He didn't know!"

"It's really not funny, Pete! This is a sick, sick---"

"Not a joke!" Pete held the phone out, "Tell her, Clark!"

"Um," Clark took a step back from the phone as if it were kryptonite. "I'd really rather not. She hits."

"He really didn't know." Chloe's voice was flat this time, losing some of the anger. She turned curious instead, "What made him figure it out?"

"Good question," Pete looked at Clark.

The blush returned. Clark shuffled, digging his foot in the dirt. If he'd really hurt Chloe like that, he probably owed her. "Um..."

"Give, Clark." Chloe's voice was firm and clear, calling in those debts.

Clark bit his lip, then sighed, knowing he had to. "Lex is back in town. I... ran into him yesterday."

Pete stared at Clark, mouth dropping open. There was a pause on the phone, before Chloe said, "Lex Luthor is back? After five years of exile, six from Smallville, and just _seeing_ him made you... Yeah, okay." 

Pete closed his mouth. "I always thought there was something about the way he hung around you..."

That was enough. Clark turned and fled.

"So, why is he back now?"

"Clark's gone, Chloe."

"Super-split?"

"Yep."

"Same old Clark."

Clark turned off his hearing and resolutely kept running.

....

Wearily, Clark entered the bookstore and gave the obligatory petting to Iciaths, the store cat. How was he supposed to have known he was gay? No, really. He liked girls – he liked them better than guys most of the time. To hang out with, mostly. Clark sighed. He headed to the back room where Mr. Yarkin kept lockers for the staff. He guessed that maybe should have been a clue. Though the kissing had always been nice. He liked the kissing. And he liked looking. Though he liked looking at the guys too. None of them had ever inspired dreams like that though, not since... Not since Lex left, actually. Well, some time after Lex had left. 

Huh. And here he'd thought it had been Lana that whole time.

There was a sticky-note on his locker. One of the ones Mr. Yarkin liked to leave to tell him what to be working on when he came in, and Clark would use to say what he'd done while he'd been in. Most of the staff used them. The writing on this one, though...

Clark plucked it off his locker. _Clark, Good to See You. Looking Good. Missed You. Your Friend._

It wasn't signed. Clark knew it was from Lex. He waited for a moment while a rush of heat went through him from head to toe, sweeping through his body and making his eyes itch and burn. He'd mastered that power years ago. Unfair. It was just a _note_. He read it again, lingering on the last two lines.

There was another sticky note on the locker. Clark pulled that one off as well. A more typical one from Mr. Yarkin asking him to pull six years worth of Warrior Angel comics if they had them, and backorder what they didn't.

Clark's mouth twitched up in a smile and he headed towards the storeroom to see what they had.

\--

_Angel, We had the first two years, and the most recent, but not the middle stuff. Here's the first batch. Holding the last. Ordering the rest. Hope to see you again. Clark._

Clark's handwriting was a lot more cramped than Lex's, even though he used two sticky notes to get it all on there, stuck onto the stack of comics. He'd also thrown several crumpled sticky notes away. He'd used 'Lex' the first few times, but after the store owner had wryly corrected him with a snort, Clark realized Lex may not be going under his real name here. The usual. The other crumpled notes were... Well, not very business-like. Clark flushed. He put the final packet on the shelf behind the counter where pick-ups usually went.

\--

_Missed you again. Still miss you. Always._

Clark flushed and swallowed. He pulled another sticky note over.

\--

"Hey, Clark!"

Clark turned his head slightly. There was only one possible person who could be talking to him while he was running back from a weekend at home into the city. "Bart!"

The teenager was in his Impulse costume instead of his everyday clothes. He waved hi to Clark even as they both sped past the rest of the world in a blur. 

"Little out of your way?" Clark asked with a grin, slowing to prolong their chat without dropping back to real speeds.

Bart likewise slowed. "I was helping Uncle Flash with a problem. Heading to your neck of the woods since I'm supposed to be hanging out with Grandpa right now. Was planning to find you today to say hi but this other thing came up instead. Would have grabbed you to come along, but didn't see you around."

Clark blinked. "I was spending the weekend with Mom and Dad. Sorry. Was it big?"

"Nah, we handled it. But you might have had fun working with us." Bart grinned at him.

Clark often wondered what it would have been like to have grown up with more family members who all had super powers. From what he'd heard, the timelines were... confused around that family, leading him to wonder even more about the universe. But... it would have been nice. Bart said it wasn't – had left home to become a thief, rejecting all of it. At least until he'd met Clark. Now, he seemed to be fully on-board with it all.

"I'm not a hero," Clark said with a shrug. "Just someone that likes to help others."

"Uh huh."

That also reminded him. "Your Grandfather Barry? Isn't he the one that designed your costumes?"

"Well, that was Grandmother's dad originally. But Grandpa has done them for all the rest of us since then."

"I wonder if I might ask him a favor. I've got this little problem..."

\--

Bart and Clark went up the hotel elevator, Bart still snickering. "Nude superhero, 11 o'clock news!" 

Clark rolled his eyes. "Not a super hero. And it's just fires that destroy my clothes. And explosions. And sometimes massive fighting. And---"

The elevator doors opened. Clark stopped talking.

They walked down the hall to the end. Clark raised his eyebrows. "Isn't this a suite?"

Bart shrugged. "Grandpa's been meeting with people – we needed the space." 

He opened the door and they walked into a sea of people.

"Uh," Bart stopped in his tracks.

Clark stopped next to him.

There weren't really all that many, but expectations had been set for a single person, or none, and instead, six folks were sitting around in the various chairs, maps and papers laid out over the central suite's table. 

An older man who was probably Bart's grandfather, a woman Clark recognized as Metropolis PD – she wouldn't know him – another three people in suits with a similar 'cop' feel to their body language, and the way they all shifted to be able to reach for weapons, and a red-haired man in slacks... red-haired, but...

"Clark?" The last man stood up. Red hair disappeared, blue eyes blinked at him.

Clark staggered, tripping over his own feet and the threshold. 

"Clark!" Lex was by his side almost as fast as Bart, helping to steady him and helping him up. "You okay?"

"Uh, just tripped." Clark blinked a few times, grabbing his glasses off the carpet before he accepted the assistance. 

"Sorry, Grandpa," Bart sounded embarrassed. "I didn't know you were having a meeting today."

The older man stood, smiling gently. "My fault. I thought you'd be away most of the day and didn't tell you the change in plans. Gentlemen, ladies, this is my grandson." 

There were murmurs of greetings around the room, and a general relaxation. Though a couple of the suits hadn't relaxed but instead refocused to Clark and Lex. 

"And you know this other young man?" 

Lex turned defensive, stepping slightly in front of Clark. "Yes. He's a friend. I ran into him a few days ago..." he trailed off, then sighed. "Oh." He turned, running his hand over the top of his bald head. "Did you happen to mention that to Chloe?"

Clark blinked, "Well, I mentioned it to Pete, then Pete told Chloe..."

Lex sighed again, turning back to the group. "My fault. We can stop speculating on the leak. This one was all me. I forgot to tell Clark not to tell anyone."

Well, Clark had kind of run off before Lex could tell him... Clark’s fault again, with Lex covering up for him. He seemed to remember that from before as well. As well as the tendency to protect him. Clark eyed Lex, wondering how self-destructive he still might be, and if Lex realized yet if Clark was grown up. They hadn’t had much time together.

There was a general round of disgruntlement from the others in the room. "This 'Chloe' is a reporter?"

"She is," Lex confirmed. "Not local anymore, but used to be. Still would have contacts if she was asking about me." He waved a hand. "Not a big deal. Now that we know it wasn't from one of Dad's people trying to stir things up, all I have to do is make some more public, obvious appearances far away. Japan---"

"Not Japan, you're too well connected there now. Somewhere else, Australia, maybe." One of the suits said, while the others continued to glower at Clark.

"Great Barrier Reef." Lex flashed a grin. "A swimsuit and not much else should confirm to everybody that it's me. And the rumors haven't been circulating long enough for an airline flight. I'll do that."

Nobody asked how Lex planned to do that. The most remark that came out was a relatively innocuous, "We still have the rumors."

Lex shrugged. "We would have had them anyway, with me contacting all Dad's associates we think we can subvert. This disguise goes only so far when I have to also convince them I'm me. It's okay. Dad reacts badly to rumors... give us a chance to see some of his defenses."

With a blink, Clark ran his gaze up and down Lex. To his eyes, Lex wasn't wearing a disguise. He looked just exactly like Lex Luthor. Even was wearing a purple collared shirt with his black slacks. Though there had been that weird image of hair when Clark had first come in. Another thing to think about.

The group broke up after that, despite Bart and Clark saying they could leave instead. There was apparently a lot of work for them and they all wanted to get back to it. Clark's eyes went round as he used a bit of x-ray vision to check badges and found that it had been a regular alphabet soup in the room – the Metropolis Lieutenant was the lowest rank there, and the others were FBI, CIA, ATF, even Interpol... They were serious about coming down on Lex's dad. Which Clark very much appreciated. He also appreciated knowing this. One more thing on the ‘plus’ side for Lex’s column. Six years, and Lex was still trying for the good.

After they were gone, Bart and his grandfather discreetly retreated to one of the side rooms while Lex and Clark moved over to the window in the main room. They looked out over the city.

Clark was very, very aware of Lex, just as he could tell that Lex was just as focused on him. They were together in this, at least.

"Sorry," Clark said quietly. "I hope I didn't mess things up."

Lex shrugged, then grinned, "One learns to adjust. Nothing ever goes as planned around me."

Clark turned to face him, his heart thumping as he studied his friend. His former friend. His friend again? Six years. Lex had gotten a bit older, but still looked good. There was a slight, pale scar along one side of his face, barely noticeable. Clark lifted a hand to very lightly touch it with one finger.

Lex drew in his breath and held still, his gaze intent on Clark. It reminded Clark of the last time they'd been face to face like this. 

"I don't see a disguise." Clark let the statement ask the question, dropping his hand.

With a breath, Lex steadied himself. Then another few breaths before he grinned again. He reached up to his shirt and hooked a finger inside, bringing out a necklace with a charm hanging off it. "Disguise. But all magic needs a certain amount of will and intent, and I think... I think I don't want to lie to you ever again."

Clark had been nodding at the charm – he'd thought it was magic – but at the last he looked up. "You didn't... I was the one who always lied to you." He looked down.

Lex snorted. "I was 21, freshly trained by my dad... you were 15, still innocent... I lied. Maybe not on the same level or about the same things. And I..." Lex hesitated, then turned to look out the window. "I tried," he continued, regret in his voice. "I did try to be good for you. But old habits. And mysteries. You. You were the biggest mystery of all. So _real_ , so good. But you were lying to me from the moment we met and it ate away at all the good things. It was inevitable. It would have been worse if I'd stayed."

He'd always thought that was why Lex had left. Well, had thought that after lots of sleepless nights and self-recrimination. But, "From the moment we met?" He could remember a lot of other times, but not the start.

"You said I didn't hit you with the car." Lex's hand went up to Clark's chest, resting on the lower ribs.

Clark could feel the weight and the heat of the gentle fingers on him. It made it hard to think. But... "No I didn't."

Lex blinked, started to step away, then stopped himself. He closed his eyes. "I promised myself. I promised myself that if I ever saw you again, I would listen. To more than just the words."

Clark flinched. "It was six years ago, Lex. I don't remember what I said exactly, but I know I didn't say that!"

Lex opened his eyes, a painful, haunted look in them. "I ran from you because even though I knew it was big, I knew it was important, even though... I couldn't stand the lies."

"I won't deny I told you plenty," Clark said, taking his courage in his hands. "But not about that – at least not then. Later. But not then." He thought back, remembering the moment. He rubbed at his own chest. "I think I said 'I should have died' or something like that." He shrugged. "It was what I was thinking."

"You... didn't know?" 

Clark shook his head. “I was as surprised as you were,” he said wryly, remembering how their gazes had locked, even as the car had hit.

"That never occurred to me." Lex turned to look out the window again. "And so our relationship started on a misunderstanding from the start."

"And we were friends despite it," Clark said firmly, not letting Lex go into that despair. He stepped up next to Lex. “And we are again, aren’t we? From nothing to everything. Just like we were then.”

Lex let his shoulder bump Clark’s, the two of them side by side and together. “Yes. From the moment I saw you again. I couldn’t believe you still remembered me.”

Clark snorted. “I would never forget. I’d thought you were beyond me. But… but you’re here. You came back, you send me notes…” He shook his head, thinking about all his plans. “I was going to take things slowly, seeing you again. Get to know you. Find out about those years between and how you felt and all that other stuff."

Abandoning the view out the window, Lex tilted his head to one side to look up at Clark, a grin playing on his lips. "But...?"

They were on the page. They were so very much on the same page. Still, and always. Clark grinned back. "I can fly now." It was fairly obvious Lex already knew a lot about him. Yet Clark still wondered…

"So can I. With a bit of assistance." Lex laughed, "I'm still afraid of heights, though."

"So am I." Clark slipped his arm around Lex's waist, and Lex leaned into him. Lex hadn’t even been surprised by the statement. And that was a little bit of mystery around his reply, freely and promptly given. Clark wanted it all, he wanted Lex, and he wanted Lex wanting him. Looked like it was mutual.

"Most of what I was learning was self-control, how not to be so angry, how to stop and think, to look out beyond myself. I've never been good at that." Lex tangled his fingers in his necklace, then let it go.

"You had a lot to be angry about," Clark settled his hand around Lex's hip, wanting more but firmly letting himself experience this first. "I learned..." he sighed. "I'm learning I can't help everybody. It's a work in progress."

"I'm sorry," Lex's voice was soft and understanding.

Clark smiled. He let his senses expand until he could see and hear all the people that needed his help, that needed help... and then he brought his senses back to the person next to him. Sometimes, the help wasn't so obvious. And sometimes he himself might be the person who needed it. Lex's heart was beating a lot faster than his relaxed pose looked. His breath was a little too fast as well. As was Clark's. 

"It's not your charm," Clark went back to an older subject. "Magic works fine on me, most times."

Lex's mouth quirked. "I'm glad you clarified. For a moment, I thought you said I had no charm."

"Idiot," Clark said fondly. "As if." He tilted his head to touch Lex's forehead lightly with his lips. "I meant... I heard you first. At the store. I knew it was you before I saw you."

"Ah." Lex snuggled himself in closer. "An illusion can't hold if one of the basic tenants is undermined. And today... you stumbled when I spoke."

"Yeah. Red hair?"

"Looked silly, didn't it?" Lex laughed. "I wanted to try it, see what might have been."

"I like you as you are," Clark said firmly.

"Do you?" Lex turned to face him, not stepping back or dislodging Clark's arm so they ended up toe to toe, Clark automatically turning as well, his grip around Lex's waist gentle but firm.

"I do," Clark whispered, leaning closer. "Heck with slow."

Lex burbled with laughter even as he tilted his head up and draped an arm around Clark's neck, digging his other hand into Clark's hair.

They kissed.

Years, Clark had waited for this. Without knowing he was waiting. He was a good kisser, he knew he was. And he liked kissing. But kissing Lex... Maybe he wasn't either homosexual or heterosexual. Maybe he was just Lex-sexual. Because he couldn't imagine feeling like this with anybody else at all.

The way Lex's heart beat, the way he kissed back, it seemed Lex might feel the same.

Six years. It was worth it for this now.

Eventually, they disentangled and let the Allens have their hotel room back. After all, there were other places to be. They ended up at Clark's, and the night was both long and short, and they got to know each other much, much better than they had before. With more still to come.

\--

A month later, Clark got a package. He turned it over curiously in his hands.

"What is it?" Lex asked, peering over the top of the newspaper.

"It's from Grandpa Allen." Which wasn't the question Lex had asked, but it was the answer Clark had at the moment.

He opened the box. "Um."

"It's bright," Lex observed, putting the newspaper down and coming over to look.

"I asked for black. So I wouldn't be noticed."

"So you could scare people instead like the Batman does?" Lex grinned. "No, I like this better."

"You would," Clark grumbled, even as he pulled out the blue costume from the box. His house symbol was on the front in a very bright yellow.

Lex reached next to him and took out a large red piece of cloth which he shook out. "Capes are awesome." He hooked it onto Clark's shoulders, somehow getting it to stay. "Just perfect for my superhero." 

"I'm not a hero."

"We've talked about this. Not an everyday, ordinary hero, maybe..." Lex grinned, "but how about an eccentric hero? My hero, always." He stepped up in front of Clark and put his hands on Clark's holding the costume. "I think it fits you."

Clark sighed, and laughed, and accepted both his kiss from Lex and his fate at the same time.

* * *

END

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: "Warm fuzzies all the way. Fluff, comfort, puppy piles, slow-burn romances, etc. I’m okay with AUs- huge sucker for a good high school, college, coffee shop, soulmates, regency, or bookstore AU- but bonus points if you can stay mostly within canon." 
> 
> I went with the warm fuzzies and fluff and romance (if not so slow-burnt), tossing in a side dish of college and bookstore, along with a few stickie notes and other DCU characters. :) Hope you like it!


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